Venus and Mars
by TheBetterPoison
Summary: Venus is the planet of love. Mars is the planet of war. All is fair in love and war, even in the halls of McKinley. So what happens when those two forces collide? It's the 2012 McKinley prom season, and there's plenty of the dueling emotions to go around
1. Chapter 1

While this hadn't been the best senior year ever, it wasn't the worst for Mercedes. She stood up for herself and, alongside Santana, led a femme, fierce, phenomenal group of Troubletones through Sectionals and an unforgettable number at Regionals. She's presided over the small but spiritual God Squad, and she's overcome the greatest amount of guilt and heartbreak yet. Taking the time to be alone and figure her heart out did her more good than she could have hoped for. Things were gradually falling into place as she and Sam re-kindled their relationship, but decided to take things slow.

Following Spring Break, the halls of McKinley began filling with prom king and queen campaign fliers. Initially, she didn't care much about the royal court, but as she saw more and more of them, she got to thinking about last year's king and queen outcome. Kurt was her best friend, and while she didn't think he would have to go through potential humiliation again, she wanted to do something to try and make sure history wouldn't repeat itself. Not only that, but she thought she might actually have a chance at winning. Her temporary status on the Cheerios sophomore year, combined with her distinctly powerful voice in Glee club certainly gave her some recognition at the school. Not only that, but the God Squad's singing telegrams turned out to be a bigger hit than any of them expected; people came to know her face, if nothing else, when they approached her with ten-dollar bills in their hands. And while she wasn't particularly proud to admit her, the time she spent dating Shane also gained her some social attention—as dating the football players often did.

The more she thought about her odds, the more her decision to run grew. Once she made up her mind, Mercedes took her phone out and sent a message to Sam: "_Hey, meet me in the quad for lunch today. Gotta talk to you._"

With a smile, she went to her locker to change her books, and then headed to the cafeteria to get her food.

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><p>After his briefly shed tears for Mercedes' infidelity, Shane let his hurt fizzle and burn. Or so he thought. He hadn't made a conscious effort to speak to or see Mercedes since she broke up with him, but earlier that week she nearly ran into his ex, who was walking hand-in-hand with her "new" boyfriend.<p>

Shane knew of Sam, mostly because of the football team. Shane had transferred to McKinley at the start of his senior year with a scholarship to Ohio State already in his back pocket. He joined the football team and soon realized that Sam had left a good impression on the other guys. When the blond returned to McKinley and joined the swim team, Shane never made much of an effort to talk to him but he noticed Mercedes was spending a lot of time around him. She led him to believe that it was all just because of glee club, but he found out the truth the day before Valentine's Day.

Seeing Mercedes walking with him like it was no big deal, ignited a fury in him that decimated any sorrowful hurt he had before. For starters, he wanted to sucker punch Sam. There was nothing "good" about the guy that could be impressed upon him now. If he had the chance, he probably would do it, but the only time he saw the guy was at school and there was too much of a risk for him to lose his scholarship if he got caught fighting. Little did Sam know that Shane's scholarship was the only shield from him getting his jaw shattered.

More than dealing with Sam, he wanted revenge against Mercedes. After all, she was his girlfriend. He'd been good to her; he cared about her and was on the verge of falling in love with her. _That_ made it worse—being on the diving board of stability and nearly head diving into love. Then out of nowhere, being punched back onto the concrete. Okay, so perhaps a swimming analogy wasn't the best choice, but it was how he'd felt about the whole situation. And Mercedes caused it all. She caused the heart-wrenching agony he suffered for the first couple weeks of their breakup, and she flared his fury now.

Sitting in the boys' locker room, he balled up his fist with a hard expression fixed on his face. He concentrated to think of something rewarding to suffice as vengeance. The more he thought about it, the less a feasible idea presented itself. How was he going to get back at her without getting himself into trouble and potentially losing his scholarship? His frustration drove him to punching a slight dent in the nearest locker.

"Um…Shane?"

The burly jock looked over to see Sam Evans standing at the end of the benches. For a blinding second, he was going to forget his scholarship and give Sam just what was coming to him, but a better judgment overcame him and he resisted. Instead, he decided to remove himself from the temptation and gather his things to go.

"Wait, hold on. I came to apologize!" Sam blurted out.

"I don't care," spat a baritone Shane. He picked up his letterman's jacket to slip it on, but before he finished, Sam spoke again.

"Look…I know what I did was messed up. I shouldn't have and I just wanted to say I'm sorry." After a very short pause, he added, "I know what it's like."

That brought Shane up short. He was in the process of snatching up his backpack, but…did Sam just say that he could relate? Shane narrowed his eyes, "Oh you know what it's like, huh? You know what it's like to be played for a fool by a girl you care about? You know what it's like to have the guy she's cheated on you with, walk around like he ain't doin' nothin' wrong with someone else's girl?"

Sam shut his eyes as he firmly sighed, "Yes. It's happened to me before. Last year."

Still narrowing his eyes, Shane's brows twitched closer together. "Hold up…you—" He was at a loss for words. Rather than trying to form a strong enough response, Shane slung his backpack over his shoulder and strode down the opposite direction of the blond.

"Shane—"

"WHAT?" he boomed back sharply, causing Sam to flinch.

After a visibly deep breath, Sam calmly said, "I hope you'll forgive me sometime. I know what I did was messed up, and I really am sorry."

"Whatever asshole," were Shane's last mumbled words before he left the locker room.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I'll be adding some chapters to this over time. This piece will go back and forth on Sam, Mercedes &amp; Shane's POV. Please leave reviews! I'm always very grateful for them!<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

Sam took a second to gain internal bearings, and to put some distance between himself and Shane before leaving the locker room. As he stood, processing what just happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, read Mercedes' text to meet up with her and then replied with a simple, "_Ok_."

After one more deep breath, he walked out of the locker room and headed to his main locker to grab his lunch. From there he made a direct trek to the quad to find his girl. After recalling her attire for that day—a yellow and black-themed get-up, complete with a beret that he said looked like a bumblebee's butt—he spotted her easily, sitting on the steps with one of the red lunch trays in her lap.

The blond swimmer steeled himself from the previous confrontation and made his way across the quad. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little shaken up from talking with Shane, but Mercedes knew he would be talking to him sometime soon, so he wasn't too concerned about sharing the conversation with her.

"Hey!" Mercedes greeted him with a bright smile. "Sit down, I wanna tell you something."

"Yeah, I got your text," Sam cheekily replied with a smirk. He sat down, pulling the water bottle from his paper lunch bag. "And I wanna tell you something."

He watched her brows rise appraisingly before asking him, "Did you go talk to Shane?"

"Is it that obvious?" he mumbled. "Yeah, I tried talking to him. I apologized. He's still pretty pissed. I think he would've knocked me out if he really wanted to."

"He wouldn't do that," Mercedes whispered back. Sam didn't think she sounded too sure of that though.

"If it had been me…" he couldn't finish that sentence truthfully. He didn't try pulverizing Finn when he found out he and Quinn were hooking up behind his back and lied about it. Of course he wanted to, but he didn't. Shaking the thought away, he said, "I don't think I should try talking to him again. I told him I was sorry, but he left and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm an asshole."

As he took a bite of his sandwich, he looked to see Mercedes lips caught between a pout and a lop-side grimace. It didn't seem like she knew what to say that without making him feel like a hypocrite, so he changed the subject. "What was it you were going to tell me though?"

"Oh! Right, I'm going to run for prom queen."

Right away, Sam's chewing came to a halt. His brows pulled together, and then shot up, "You're not gonna ask me to run for king with you, are you?"

"No," she promptly answered.

He jerked his head back a fraction. "You didn't have to answer so quickly."

"I didn't mean it like that Sam," she said softly. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was sorry, even before she'd went on to tell him, "I'm not doing it for the crown or that stupid wand thing."

"…You mean a scepter?"

"Yeah, that. Anyway, you need to promise me you won't tell anyone this but…I'm doing it for Kurt."

Speaking around his second bite into his sandwich, he echoed, "For Kurt?"

"Yes, for Kurt. Remember what happened last year?" Of course he did—everyone in Glee club did. "I don't want that to happen again. Last year, when Figgins called Kurt's named, I was so stunned that I didn't do anything. I know I say this every time I think about that night but…thank God Blaine was there and went after him. _I _should have." She stared down at her untouched carton of chocolate milk, "He's been there for me tons of times. I want to return the favor this year and I think I have a good shot at winning. Plus, even if I don't win, if history repeats itself and Figgins calls Kurt's name for queen, I'll be close enough and aware enough to actually do something about it."

Serious curiosity crossed Sam's face, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna take the mic right outta Figgins' hand and call out everyone there. Kurt's a great guy. And I love Brittany and all, but Kurt should have been our class president this year but it got taken away from him. I'm not gonna let prom night get taken away from him by some stupid prank."

The blond let his girlfriend's words resonate. Her intentions—like most things she did—were valiant. It was something he found very attractive about her. With a small, crooked smile he told her, "I think that's great, Mercedes. I'm behind you 100%. Win or lose though, do I still get to be your date?"

His smile grew as she giggled and told him, "Yes, you do."

* * *

><p>Shane thundered out of the locker room, incensed. How in the hell did anyone convince him that Sam was some southern gentleman with a heart of gold? As far as Sam was concerned, the blond was a thief, a dick and worth nothing more than a fraction of a speck. He'd finally found the strongest words in his vocabulary, fitting to bequeath upon the blond, but it didn't matter now. Sam wasn't near to hear it. In fact, no one was in the hallway. He'd been so blinded by his rage that he missed hearing the lunch bell.<p>

When he looked around, surveying his surroundings, his eyes were bombarded with colorful posters plastered up and down the hallways—on classroom doors, locker fronts, and bulletin boards:  
><em><strong>Rick 'The Stick' Nelson for Prom King<br>Finchel for Prom King & Queen  
>Vote 'Rick and Melissa' at Prom<br>Francesca Olsen for Prom Queen!  
>Vote for Finn Hudson &amp; Rachel Berry<br>Vote for Becky Jackson  
>Matt Dent for Prom King<strong>_

Variations of those, and others were staring back at Shane. For a moment, he'd forgotten all about prom, but seeing the campaign posters reminded him, and provided him with an idea. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to satiate his need for revenge. But it was going to require help. Luckily, he knew just who to talk to. Now having a destination, he turned around and headed to the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>The first bell indicating the end of the lunch rang. Mercedes hugged Sam as a show of gratitude for his support with her prom decision. As they cleaned up their area and prepared to head to the choir room, Mercedes told him, "I'll need to find a banging photo of myself to use for the posters."<p>

"Just use one from my locker," suggested Sam. "You look great in those pictures, and since Coach Sylvester's probably not gonna let us use the Cheerio's copy machine, you can use the one in the library."

He was glad to see Mercedes smile when he mentioned the use of his locker photos, but when he mentioned the library's copy machine, she started shaking her head. "Everyone knows that copy machine's so sketch. I'll just go to The Copy Shop after school and bring them to school tomorrow. For now, I can just let the glee club know. The only others running in the club are Rachel and Finn, but I'm not worried about them."

Sam shrugged, "Finn might have a chance, but…no offense to Rachel but I just wonder if she's got enough likeability from everyone to get it. But…are you going to tell Kurt why you're running?"

Mercedes bit her lip as they returned inside the building. She held her notebook to her chest, and after a few seconds of thinking she looked to Sam and said, "Not yet. I will, but not yet."

The two reached the choir room and took a seat in two of the floor chairs. Rachel was already there, sitting at the top risers, and Sugar and Rory came flouncing in. Not long after, Kurt and Blaine entered, just ahead of Puck, Mike and Tina.

Their fellow God Squad members sat on either side of them; Joe sat on Sam's right while Quinn wheeled herself beside Mercedes' left. Soon, the remaining New Directions entered, with Mr. Schuester bringing up the rear.

"Alright guys—yes Mercedes?" Mr. Schue acknowledged her raised hand with a nod.

The black diva lowered her hand and said, "I just wanted to make a quick announcement."

The teacher gestured to the tiles whiles stepping aside. "The floor is yours."

"Oh no, this will only take a sec." Mercedes rose to her feet and looked around at her friends while she said, "I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm running for prom queen."

"What?" balked Kurt and Rachel.

"Really?" perked Tina.

Quinn, Santana and Finn raised their brows while Sugar clapped like a one-woman fan club.

Mercedes took all their reactions with a grain of salt, shrugged and said, "Yep. I'd love your votes, but…either way, I'm running."

"No offense, Mercedes," spoke Puck, "but…why?"

Her eyes flashed to Kurt but she quickly looked away before anyone could suspect anything. Putting up a good front, she abrasively said, "Look, it's not like I'm gonna get a chance to do something like this again. I wanna run, so I'm throwing my hat into the ringer. I hope you guys will vote for me but if you don't I'm gonna go through with this anyway."

Rachel's brows came together suspiciously. She hadn't spoken, but Tina did.

"Aren't you going to run, Quinn?"

All eyes went to the former Cheerio, who promptly told them, "No. I'm not interested in winning this year."

"But prom queen was so important to you last year," noted a confused Mike Chang.

"Yeah, well being in an accident and losing your ability to walk tends to put some perspective on what's important, doesn't it?"

The room went uncomfortably silent until Mr. Schuester hastened to break it, "Okay, well Mercedes we're wishing you the best on your campaign for prom queen!" The end of his response was just a tad too perky, but it didn't matter for long. He went on to tell everyone that the New Directions were in slated to provide the music again, so their assignment was to start thinking about songs to perform.

"Mr. Schue, you can't be serious," protested Rachel.

Finn joined in, "Yeah, most of us are seniors this year. We don't wanna spend half the night singing for our friends."

"Seriously!" added Santana. "I wants to get my dance on. Why can't Figgins just hire a DJ like a normal prom?"

Mr. Schuester put his hands up, "Guys! Look, he probably would have but he's giving us the money for us to use towards Nationals. So unless you guys come up with a better way to raise the money, you're performing at prom."

Puck jolted the back of Sugar's chair with the toe of his boot, "Sugar Mama's loaded. Just let her fork up the dough like she did for Regionals."

"Okay first of all, my Daddy's loaded, Puckerman" sneered Sugar. "And secondly, I'm on a quest to get him to buy Ireland for Rory. So, sorry," she shrugged, "can't help this time."

"And I'm not letting Sugar pay for our trip to Nationals," added Mr. Schuester. "Look, we're going to do the prom songs. That's my final word."

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><p><em><strong>Please leave reviews! More is coming soon.<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

Prom was less than one day away. The school day was nearly over as Shane started walking down the hallway back to class. He probably could have held his bowel movements for the remaining ten minutes of class, but it felt good to get up and walk around the empty halls for a minute. As he headed back to class however, he heard the muffled sounds of an all-too familiar songstress. Unable to avoid passing the choir room to get back to class, he slowed his steps to hear Mercedes flawlessly belt out lyrics to Jessie J's "Price Tag". When he peered in the small window, her back was to him but he knew she must have been smiling. He saw a petite brunette dancing in a dress with loud prints, and the guy in the wheelchair throwing his hands up in the air while spitting some "Yeah"s and "Uh"s in here and there. Shane recognized Santana and Brittany from the Cheerios, backing them up, but Mercedes was obviously the featured vocalist. He had heard by now that the glee club was doing the music for prom this year; he also was well-aware of Mercedes' campaign for prom queen. Hell, he'd torn down a couple of her "Mercedes Jones for Prom Queen" fliers when they'd first gone up.

But something about listening to her sing so freely and beautifully made him think of better days. He loved her voice and knew she had the best set of pipes in the school. It was one of the things he had always really liked about her. She could put a spell on him with the way that she sang—it didn't matter what the song was. Even now, as he spied on her, he started to feel guilty for the operation he concocted for tomorrow. Doubt clouded his mind. Perhaps there was a better way to let her know just how badly she'd hurt him. Maybe he should just tell her straight that he felt played for a fool and he really cared about her…

Shane shook his head violently and stepped away from the choir room. "No," he muttered to himself, taking long but slow strides away. He was going to stick with his original plan. He had to. His mind couldn't be change by one measly moment of hearing her sing. Besides, he had himself a new girl to focus on—Layla Walker, a junior, slated to be the next Cheerios captain. She seemed to have a crush on him, and showed genuine joy when his buddy, Rick, fixed them up for prom.

The burly jock returned to class in time to pack up his things before the final bell rang. When he walked back out into the hall, it turned into a stampede of his peers, all eager to get their start on the weekend. Several girls passed him by, blathering on about hair and nail appointments for prom. On a brief visit to his locker his date, Layla, approached him. She had mocha-colored skin and thick chestnut hair that hung in a ponytail of big ringlets. She wore a smile on her face and was clutching a notebook in front of the upper half of her Cheerios uniform.

"Hey Layla," he said in his naturally deep voice.

"Hi Shane! Ready for prom tomorrow?"

He was beginning to wonder the answer to that, but lied and said, "Yeah."

"Great!" she answered with an enthused smile. One of her hands slipped into the inner surface of her notebook cover and when she withdrew it, she handed him a folded slip of paper. "Here's my address. I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

His lips barely smiled a response, even after she dared a quick peck on his cheek and flounced off. He turned back to his locker to shut it, and as he started to leave with the intent of going to the parking lot, his eye caught Mercedes walking straight towards him. He couldn't pretend to not see her because she had been staring at him as she approached. Rather than walking away, his feet remained where they were, but his head turned to look down one of the adjacent. In the near distance he saw the fiery head hair belonging to Rick Nelson, who was also making his way toward the football player. Shane pursed his lips; if Rick was coming to him this close to prom, it undoubtedly had something to do with their prank.

"Hey Shane," spoke Mercedes.

He snapped his gaze to her, the commotion of the halls kept him from hearing her finally appear before him.

"Uh…hey."

Her head tilted and she grimaced, "Look…I know you're probably still mad at me and I understand if you are. I just…I really am sorry I hurt you. It wasn't my attention—it's not who I am, like I told you before. But it was important to me to not only be honest with you but with myself. I hope you understand."

He stared back at her, saying nothing. Was she really apologizing to him again? _That wasn't expected _he thought. Sure, for weeks he'd been angrily telling himself that she should have come crawling back to him with apologies. He'd rehearsed in his mind what exactly he'd say to her—with not a single tear in his eyes. Now, she was here in front of him with a second apology and he couldn't even speak. Her words didn't pierce his core like when she broke up with him. They didn't spark his anger like the many times when he saw her in the hallway, or caught her and Sam walking hand-in-hand. He didn't feel anything! It was so dull, it rendered him speechless.

Pulling him out of his internal thoughts, he saw Mercedes offer him a small but sincerely uncertain smile, "Okay, well…I'll see you tomorrow? Santana told me you were going with another Cheerio. I hope you have a great time. Save me a dance, okay?"

Still saying nothing, he just nodded as she walked away.

Shane watched after her, wondering if he was finally over Mercedes. It was the first time he hadn't felt anger, betrayal or resentment towards her.

"Hey Tinsley," hissed the hockey captain. He threw a playful punch at Shane's shoulder—who was unfazed by it.

Surfacing from his epiphany, Shane looked to him. "Hey."

"You ready for tomorrow? Me and the guys got everything ready for that bitch ex of yours."

The burly football player looked down with an obvious amount of doubt crossing his face. "About that…"

Rick threw his head back with disappointment screaming on his face, "Come on, Tinsley! Don't tell me you're turning chicken shit and pussy-whipped for your ex! I saw her come up and talk to you. You telling me one little talk gave you a change of heart?" He hook his arm around Shane's thick neck and tried guiding him down the hallway, opposite Mercedes, but Shane hadn't budged so Rick stayed put. "Look, you were good to her, right?"

"Yeah," he answered stoically.

"And she cheated on you with her ex, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And she waited weeks to tell you about it!"

"I know, but—"

Rick spread his arms out, "Then what's your problem? Everything's laid out for you to get that bitch back tomorrow!"

Shane shoved him lightly and mumbled, "Man, stop callin' her a bitch."

Rick stumbled back a couple of steps with amused confusion, "Why? That's what you called her when you came to me with this plan." He lowered his voice and slapped the back of Shane's shoulder. "Don't worry dude, the guys and I got your back. We'll take care of her. Just make sure you get her near the back door and we'll take it from there. There will still be a crowd for coverage but Figgins and Sylvester won't be hanging around there so we won't get caught."

With that, Rick stalked away wearing a devious smirk on his face.

For the first time since hatching this plan, Shane started feeling uneasy. But it was like a rolling boulder; he pushed it down the hill and now that it had gained speed, there was no way he could stop it. He didn't even know who all Rick had gotten to help him. All he knew was that tomorrow night was going to be unforgettable for his ex. And he couldn't feel more riddled with guilt.

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><p><em><strong>Please leave reviews! More's coming soon! And I promise this will not be as long of a multi-chapter fic as "Flash Forward".<strong>_


	4. Chapter 4

"You nervous dude?"

Sam looked up from the corsage box sitting in his lap. He and Finn were on their way to pick up Mercedes and Quinn from the Jones residence. "No. Excited, actually. Mercedes and I get to have a real prom this year, y'know? I could afford to rent my own tux this time—buy her a corsage and I still have some money for Breadstix."

Finn's lips pulled up in a half smile. "Yeah…that must be nice."

The blond grimaced. "I'm sorry man. Seriously. I know you and Rachel weren't planning for things to be like this…"

"It's cool. I mean…it's not, but…don't worry about it. I wasn't gonna go tonight but…it's senior year and all. Plus with the whole prom king thing, I doubt we're gon win. I really only kinda did it because she wanted to but it's never been a big deal to me. It wouldn't be so bad if Mercedes won though. I wouldn't mind dancing with her if we won. I'm actually kind of surprise Quinn agreed to go with me again though—even just as friends."

"You guys are gonna have fun tonight. The four of us can hang together. Plus, we have some awesome songs we've got to do," Sam said with an encouraging smile.

Before they knew it, Finn was pulling up to the curb of the Jones' estate. Since the four friends would be going together and neither Finn nor Sam had trucks with extended cabs, Finn's mom, Carole, loaned her Jetta to them for the night. They both got out and walked up the brick path to the double doors. Sam rang the doorbell, and then resumed holding the corsage box with two hands. He rolled back and forth on the balls and heels of his feet, waiting anxiously for someone to answer.

The door on their left swung open and the two boys were greeted by their wheelchair-bound ex. Quinn backed her chair up with one hand while the other hand pulled the door further open for the two. She smiled sweetly at them, "Hi boys."

Sam smiled his notorious lop-sided smile at her. "Hi Quinn. You look great!" He looked to Finn, who looked like he was trying to find words. The blond jutted an elbow into his arm.

"Y-yeah! Quinn you look really beautiful." His eyes were fixed on everything about Quinn— from her sophisticated blonde up 'do, to her royal blue one-shoulder gown, right down to her strappy gold Gladiator flats.

Quinn looked down, blushing lightly though she chuckled softly at Finn's fumbling. "Thank you Finn. And thank you Sam. Mercedes will be down in a second. Her mom wanted to talk to her before we left."

"I'm coming!" They heard her call from an unseen place above.

Sam bit his lip, looking from the empty staircase, back to Quinn. "So…how's the physical therapy going?"

Finn cast him a harsh look, "Dude!"

"No, it's okay," assured Quinn—her smile returning. "It's going better than I thought. Don't expect me to be dancing at Nationals, but look." She bent her head down and the two boys followed her gaze.

It was slight, but they saw all her toes twitch up and down. Finn's lips spread into an excited grin and Sam smirked.

"Nice!" cheered Finn. Without much thought he leaned down and hugged her. Quinn reacted with an equally excited hug and before either could think much further, they quickly pulled apart, blushing.

"Thanks. I tried standing at my appointment earlier, but unless someone practically carries me… I'm not ready for that."

Finn tucked his lips into his mouth but nodded while Sam offered a heartening smile. From the top of the staircase, someone cleared their throat. All three pairs of eyes went to Mercedes; Quinn quickly turned a sideways glance on Sam to catch his reaction.

Stunning. That was the one word he could give to Mercedes. All he'd known was that she was wearing purple, so he rented himself a deep purple tux—the jacket and pants nearly looked black in the dark, but there was an obvious purple hue under enough light—and he purchased her a white lily wrist corsage with a purple ribbon. But none of that prepared him for seeing the beauty that was slowly descending upon him. Her medium-length hair fell in soft curls around her radiant face, making her look more angelic than it usually did. And her dress was a strapless, plum ball gown that glimmered at the bust and hem. He noticed she was wearing a golden, "Love" necklace and a pair of equally gold earrings that he'd given her last summer.

Sam's lips parted into an awed smile. He stepped forward to meet her at the bottom of the stairs, one hand extended to assist her on the last step. Before closing his mouth again, he whispered, "Wow."

The curvaceous teen placed her hands on her hips and turned a full 360 for him. When she came back around to face him, she nearly blinded him with her white, teeth-bearing smile.

"Mercedes, you look hot!" said Finn, grinning at the black diva.

"Way to take the words right out of Sam's mouth, Finn," Quinn quietly teased.

Mercedes grin grew impossibly wider, "Thaaanks Finn."

"Mercedes," Sam spoke, claiming her attention again. "At the risk of sounding cliché, what I wanted to tell you...is that you look…beautiful."

Sam watched her grin melt into a softer smile.

"Thank you Sam. And you look really handsome."

He only pried his gaze away to pop open the corsage container and tied it around her left wrist. When she lowered her arm to her side, he stepped closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Guuuys," Quinn softly griped, "Come on, we still have to get to Breadstix and we can't be late. You boys are supposed to be doing the first song."

"Right!" perked up Finn.

They were nearly out the door when Mercedes' mom stopped them for a few photos. They rushed through the pictures and farewells before Finn and Sam helped Quinn into the car, and the foursome rode off to Breadstix.


	5. Chapter 5

Mercedes didn't think last year's prom could be topped, but so far the scale was definitely tipped in favor of senior prom. She always thought Sam looked attractive, but there was something about the man in his uniquely purple tux that gave an all new meaning to handsome.

She, Sam, Quinn and Finn chattered the entire way to Breadstix but because they were now running late, they split a cheese pizza and then headed off to McKinley. They arrived just in time for Mercedes to warm up with Sugar, Santana, Brittany and Artie; they were performing "Price Tag" as the first song of the night.

The crepe paper, balloons and table décor throughout the gymnasium were all purple, green and gold which made them all feel like they were attending Marti Gras rather than a dinosaur-themed dance. Above the stage boasted the prom theme, "Prom-A-Saurus" with dinosaur cut-outs around it. Most of the seniors had already been in the gym by the time the first song was over. Mercedes helped wheel Artie off the stage while Joe, Puck, Sam and Finn helped each other prepare for the next song. They performed Cartel's "Honestly" with Sam and Joe splitting the lead on vocals while Puck and Finn backed them up, along with their instrumental skills on the drums and guitar. Mercedes and Quinn danced to the boys' number in a group with Artie—who came stag—Brittany and Santana.

Throughout the night, the New Directions rotated their song performances; Rachel sang "Every Time We Touch" by Cascada, Sam and Artie returned to the stage to rap vocals to "Cupid's Chokehold" while Mike and Finn doubled up on the singing parts. Sam artfully tweaked the lyrics, customizing them for Mercedes by saying, "…_She's got eyes comparable to sunrise and it doesn't stop there…she's got chocolate skin, of course she's a ten and now she's even got her own song_…" His lips formed a grin as he directed those lyrics to her, and in return, Mercedes blushed deeply and dipped her head with a wide, bashful grin.

Mercedes performed the first slow song of the night, opting on Christina Aguilera's "Bound To You". She vaguely paid attention to nearly everyone pairing up, but for the most part, her focus was on giving the most heartfelt delivery of the song that she possibly could. After she finished, Santana and Puck led—with backup vocals by Rachel and Tina—to Janelle Monaé's "Tightrope". Tina, Quinn and Sam performed, "Just Can't Get Enough by the Black Eyed Peas; Quinn took on a solo performance of Ingrid Michaelson's "The Way I Am", and Artie followed up with Ginuwine's "Differences". Just before the announcement of the 2012 prom king and queen, all of the Glee boys took over the stage and raised the energy with LMFAO's "Party Rock Anthem".

When the hype of the dance song died down, Principal Figgins took to the stage and called the prom king and queen candidates up. Mercedes looked up to Sam with a hopeful smile; in all honesty she hadn't cared a great deal if she won or not. Just as long as she was close enough on the stage to snuff potential embarrassment for her best friend. After Sam gave her a hand a gentle squeeze, she left his side and joined Becky, Rachel, Francesca and Melissa on the left side of the stage while Rick, Finn, Matt and two boys Mercedes only really knew by first name—Oliver and Thomas—stood on the right.

"And now, your 2012 prom king is…" Principal Figgins opened the top envelope in his hand, produced a slip of paper and then glanced to his left. "Finn Hudson!"

Various cheers erupted from around the gym while Finn humbly stepped forward to accept his crown and scepter. Mercedes caught him feign a smile while seemingly making a conscious effort not to look in the direction of the female candidates; she had a strong hunch he was avoiding Rachel.

"And your 2012 prom queen is…" Figgins spoke, opening the second envelope.

Mercedes pursed her lips in anticipation while she heard Rachel quietly and repeatedly chanting her own name under her breath. The black diva rolled her eyes just as Figgins ended the air of eagerness.

"Quinn Fabray."

The prom candidates on stage looked just as stunned as Quinn, herself. Mercedes squinted and looked out to find her blonde bestie. She caught Quinn mouthing to Sam, "But I didn't run."

Before the silence in the gym could get any more awkward, Mercedes raised her hand and initiated the round of applause for her friend. As others followed suit, Sam pushed her up the ramp leading to the stage. Quinn still looked slightly confused even as she graciously accepted the title. When she glanced over to Mercedes, Mercedes answered with a friendly smile and two thumbs up.

As Quinn smiled back, Principal Figgins droned into the microphone again, "And now, as per tradition, the king and queen will share a dance."

While he and the nominated seniors exited the stage, Tina stepped up to sing Adele's cover of The Cure's "Lovesong." Sam escorted Mercedes off the stage and Finn wheeled Quinn away for their dance. Mercedes started to slip her arms around Sam as they stood around the outskirts of the wide circle formed by the other prom attendees.

Finn wheeled Quinn out to the center and then stepped around to face her. He held his hand out to her and Quinn nervously chuckled, lowering her gaze to the floor. "You don't have to do this, Finn."

"Give me your hand," he softly replied.

Quinn looked back up in his eyes, smiled and extended a hand out to the tall brunette. She half expected him to just kiss her hand, or to pretend to twirl her around while she really did the work of performing a 360. What she hadn't counted on, was Finn lifting her right out of her chair and into a standing a position with their bodies pressed to each other.

"What are you doing?" she demanded in a whispered panic. "You're going to drop me, and then I'm going to have to kill you! Let me down, Finn!"

"Never," he whispered back, securing an arm around her waist while his other hand held hers. He slipped his feet under hers and supported her in a standing position while swaying them both from side to side.

Mercedes had her hands pressed to her chest with baited breaths and a growing smile at her two friends. She knew how determined Quinn had been to walk again; none of them had seen her out of her wheelchair since the accident.

Sam happily squeezed Mercedes' side while whispering in Mercedes' ear, "I knew they were going to have a good time tonight."

She couldn't do anything but grin and nod back but her eyes were glued on the prom king and queen. Under the dim lights, Quinn was flushing but Mercedes caught her smiling as Finn turned her in his arms.

When Tina's performance ended, Finn helped Quinn back into her wheelchair. The wide circle shrunk back to a cluster of students as the synth intro to Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" filled the gym. Blaine and Brittany danced their way the stage with autotune-adjusted microphones in their hands; Sugar and Santana soon joined to back up their vocals. Mercedes summoned Sam with the grip of his tie while she danced backwards towards the center of the dance floor. They smiled and giggled, attempting to upstage the other with their silly dance moves throughout the number.

"Uh-uh, you ain't got nothing on me, Evans!" Mercedes playfully jeered, swaying her hips and winding her fists over her head. Her feathery curls waved and bobbed with her fun movements.

"Pft, _who_ perfected the body roll?" he countered while expertly exemplifying said move.

"Boy, please! That's one move! And who_ taught _you the body roll?"

Sam raised his brows, "One move? Are you forgetting what I busted out last year?" And at that, he automatically reverted to doing the robot.

They grinned at each other and continued dancing right up to the end of the song. Mercedes placed a hand over Sam's arm, half out of breath, "That was fun. I'm about to work up a sweat in this dress though—I swear!"

He smirked, "Yeah it was. Hang out here, and I'll go get us some punch."

Mercedes watching after him adoringly, and when he vanished from her sight, she began thinking about finding Tina and Mike to talk to them. As she started to turn around, someone tapped her on the shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

Two boys took walked on the stage to perform next. Shane knew one of them, Kurt, because he was Mercedes' best friend. The other guy, he recognized but all he knew about him was that he had an Irish accent. They started singing, "It Will Rain" by Bruno Mars as he approached Mercedes.

Her pursed his lips and then reached out to tap her on the shoulder. Already she was smiling at him, but it softened as she realized he was the one who tapped her.

"Hi Shane. Here for that dance I asked you to save me?" she asked in her sassy-sweet tone.

He chuckled once, nervously, "Yeah. Are you free?"

The corners of her lips curled a fraction more, "Yes. Sam was just getting us some punch, but he'll understand."

"Oh…." He didn't really know what else to say so he went with, "Cool. But I didn't just come to dance with you. I wanted to talk to you."

She nodded, "Sure."

How was he going to tell her about the prank? For one, it didn't help that she looked exceptionally and heartbreakingly gorgeous under the intimate prom lighting. And it also didn't help that she was happy, smiling and being reliably sweet to him. Those were, once upon a time, his reasons for ensuing this prank in the first place. But now he was struggling for a way to tell her without her hating him. He didn't want that.

"Mercedes, I—" he started to mumble, but she interjected.

"You know, I can't really hear you. Let's go stand in the back. There's a little less noise and a lot fewer people standing around."

"Actually, I—"

"Come on," she insisted, taking the lead towards the south end of the gym.

Shane sighed and followed after her. As he neared, he spotted his red-headed friend and a couple other hockey players looming around the back doors like vultures circling its prey. The bulky football player's gaze turned stern and he shook his head quickly but Rick clearly hadn't taken the hint. Rather, the hockey captain devilishly grinned and thrust a thumb up in response.

He gritted his teeth and impulsively hissed, "No!"

"What was that?" Mercedes asked, turning to look up at him.

He tried to avert his gaze—to pretend that he'd been looking at her all along, but it was too late. She caught his offset gaze and started to turn and follow where he'd been looking.

"No, Mercedes! Listen," he hurriedly grabbed her shoulder, to which she nervously chuckled at him.

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

Her brows shot up and her smile faltered, "You're sorry? Sorry for what? I'm the one that hurt you, remember?"

"I know, but…just say you'll forgive me, okay?"

Now her brows came back down, knitting close together. "Uh…okay, but I don't know why I am." She chuckled again and raised a hand to his forehead, "You feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, fine, fine," he brushed off her gesture, kindly and threw a glaring gaze back up at Rick, who was nearing them with a hand behind his back.

It was now or never. Grinding his teeth, Shane looked back down at her, "Mercedes I have to tell you something else."

He forgot to look back at her as he said this. His eyes were fixed on the loud, wordless eye communication, telling Rick to scrap the prank. But Rick had turned his head to nod to one of the other hockey players.

When Shane finally did look back at Mercedes, she was staring at him in confusion. "What do you keep looking at?"

Before he could stop her, she pulled back a few steps from his feeble hold on her shoulders and started to turn around.

And then the power went out.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to suddenly move at the pace of an action film—fast, then slow-mo, and then back to real time. The gym went black. The music, along with Kurt and Rory's voices were abruptly cut off. Several people gasped and shrieked from the instant darkness. Few people heard a dense splattering sound, promptly followed by a horrific gasp.<p>

"Food for bitches!" someone called out in the dark.

"Mercedes!" she heard Shane call out. She didn't respond—too frozen in speechlessness and immobility.

A few boys snickered darkly and one girl nearby whispered, "Oh my God!"

Mercedes' hair was no longer the feathery locks that flowed freely beside her cheeks like an angel. Her purple sparking gown was robbed of its flawlessness. The petals of her lily corsage wilted under the weight of wet dog food and syrup-flavored ice. The horrendous combination was seeping into the top of her head and dripping down the front of her face. Chunks of dog food lodged in the dip of her gown's neckline while slushie syrup and crushed ice trickled down her clawed fingers.

The lights came back on.

Everyone broke into low murmurs, looking around to see what caused the temporary black out, and why the insult was shouted. Quickly the attention fell on the former queen candidate.

Mercedes managed to clear her vision of slushie syrup and dog food remnants before making her way to the nearest door.

"Oh my God!" someone else whispered.

"What the hell?"

"That's so embarrassing!"

Shane called out to her again but she didn't stop.

Someone else was vastly approaching but she didn't acknowledge them either. If she could just make it to a bathroom…

The back doors of the gym opened and Mercedes rushed out harboring her sobs for a less crowded place. Her mind and vision became clouded so quickly that she didn't know what to do, except to keep moving. She couldn't bring herself to care about the people calling after her or their footsteps racing to catch her when she broke into a run.

She kept trying to clear her vision, but the sticky syrups on her palms and knuckles only made things worse.

"Mercedes, wait!"  
>Sam.<p>

"Mercedes!"  
>Kurt.<p>

"Please stop, Mercedes!"  
>Tina.<p>

Her running faltered when she rolled her ankle in her heels and stumbled into a line of lockers. She doubled into her and continued fighting the urge to sob openly, despite the hot tears pouring down her face.

Sam crouched right beside her, huffing heavily in her ear, "Are you okay?"

"No!" she shrieked back. Opening her mouth for that single response destroyed the barriers she'd forced to keep her cries silent. Her chest tightened. Her jaw quivered open. Her heart hammered in her ears though it felt lodged in her throat. Her head shook back and forth, constantly. She raised a trembling hand to the top of her head, only to have it met with a glob of beef cubes and slushie ice. There were no words for how she felt.

She felt Sam flick debris from her head and then enclose as much of her crumpled frame in his arms as he could. Unable to fight it any further, Mercedes cried aloud, into Sam's chest.

He didn't shush her, nor did he get an answer from her when he quietly asked, "Who did this to you?"

"It was Rick and his idiot friends," Kurt briskly answered. Tina and Sam looked to him as he went on to say, "I saw a couple of the hockey players opening cans in the boys' bathroom earlier but I didn't think much of it then. When the lights came back on in the gym, I saw them again. They were near the back, and I always look at the back of a room when I sing. They were the only ones around her that thought this was funny."

Sam's grip on her tightened. She didn't raise her head to gauge the truth from Kurt's answer. Thinking on it now, she did vaguely remember seeing Rick's fire-red head lingering near her and Shane, moments before the lights went out. Whatever his purpose had been, Mercedes was too distraught to think on it.

From behind, she heard Kurt murmur to Tina, "Go get paper towels. I'm gonna find her purse and get Blaine to take her home."

He then spoke softly and directly to Mercedes. "Mercedes we'll be right back."

She said and did nothing back to him, but her non-response didn't keep Kurt or Tina's footsteps from rapidly fading away.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please leave reviews! Don't hate me, and don't for one second think that I don't love Mercedes (see my other fanfics if you don't believe me). Also, keep in mind the name and description of this fanfic: "Venus &amp; Mars". All is fair in love and war. More is coming soon.<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

Sam couldn't believe how quickly things transformed that night. One minute, he was by the punch table, taking Coach Sylvester's heckles in stride. Then the all lights cut out, and when they come back on, his girlfriend is darting out of the gym with crap in her hair. He ditched the drinks, shoved past the still bystanders and darted out of the gym after her.

"Sam, wait up!" he heard Kurt's familiar voice call from behind him. But waiting was exactly what Sam wasn't going to do. He couldn't even imagine what Mercedes must be feeling, but none of it was good; none of it anything that he'd want her to be feeling. Ever.

When he finally caught up to her, he didn't hesitate to console her, although now that he was closer to her, he could see what the crap in her hair was. Almost instantly his blood set to a boiling point. _Who the fuck would do this?_ he asked himself. The only person he could think that had anything against Mercedes was Shane. As far as Sam could tell, the burly jock made it clear that he was still hurt and unhappy with the curvaceous diva. But never in Sam's wildest thoughts did he ever think Shane would hurt Mercedes like this.

"It was Rick," he heard Kurt say, after he'd managed to utter the question that was vastly tormenting his mind.

_Rick? Rick 'The Stick' Nelson? _None of it made sense, but it didn't matter. Kurt's verbal proof was enough for Sam.

He didn't realize it, but he was still huffing—however it was no longer due to running. His mind was swept up in rage like a bull, and Rick had a large red target slapped on his cocky ass. Sure, the hockey player was a few inches taller than Sam, but Sam had the upper hand in strength; the hockey captain was all bark and no bite. He knew he could take Rick with ease.

But Tina and Kurt had left and there was no way he was going to leave Mercedes alone—nevermind that she was clinging to him like life support. He loved her and would not leave her by herself at a time like this. Thankfully Mercedes couldn't see the vengeance and fury carved on his face at the moment; one look in his eyes and she'd know exactly what he was getting ready to do.

"Oh my God, Mercedes," he heard Quinn urgently rasp from the end of the hallway. Sam looked up to see her quickly approaching, with Finn pushing her chair along.

In a slightly selfish way, he was relieved they had shown up. It meant Mercedes wouldn't be alone when he returned to the gym to thank Rick. When Quinn and Finn reached him and Mercedes, Sam strained to ask, "Can you guys stay here with her? I need to go take care of something really quick."

"Where are you going?" Quinn asked warily. At the same time, Tina emerged from one of the nearby bathrooms with her hands full of paper towels.

"I'll be right back," he replied curtly. Sam then looked back down to Mercedes and whispered, "Tina, Finn and Quinn will help get this stuff off you but I promise I'll be back."

He felt Mercedes loosen her hold on him but her head was still lowered. Sam touched her chin, "Hey." Kindly, he raised her head and ran this thumb along her lips, and then under her eyes to clear the fresh tears. With his green eyes staring darkly at her, he pressed a tense kiss to her lips and then feigned a smile at her, "I love you Mercedes. Your friends love you and in a month, we're gonna be out of this hell hole."

His heart literally ached at the sight of her, though he did his best to hide it. Never in the two years that he knew her, had he ever seen Mercedes' spirit look so broken. Before he could let his flaring fury reappear on his face, he moved both his arms from around her and let Tina take his place.

Sam made quick strides down the hallway, but Finn caught his arm and quietly asked, "Where are you going?"

"To handle the guy who did this," he spat under his breath.

"You know who did it?"

"Rick 'The Dick' Nelson." Sam jerked his arm free of Finn's grasp before the taller male could ask 'how' he knew. There was no way this was going to be swept under a rug, and Sam was going to make sure of that as he thundered back to the gymnasium.

* * *

><p>An awkward tension loomed thickly in the prom space. It didn't seem like everyone was quite as carefree anymore. Rachel had returned to the stage to sing The Cardigans' "Lovefool" while Figgins, Coach Sylvester, Coach Bieste and Coach Roz floated around the room, interviewing people who may have seen what happened. It was unclear how many actually saw something versus who merely heard the whispers during the aftermath.<p>

Sam's path through the crowds was swift and clear, and in no time he spotted his target. Mike, Joe and Sugar saw him enter the gym and called out to him but he effortlessly ignored them all. He saw a few heads turn—eyes fall on him, but he didn't care who was watching. In fact, he half-hoped an audience would witness Rick get the beat-down of his life.

When he reached Rick, his back was turned while talking to a girl Sam vaguely assumed was his date. Without a moment's hesitation, the blond gripped Rick's shoulder, about faced the captain and threw all of his weight into a single hook across the face. Rick's head whipped to the side as he immediately stumbled to the ground, but Sam pounced on him to repeat the action.

"YOU BASTARD!" he shouted, crunching the other jock's nose with a sickening crack.

Immediately, more shrieks and gasps erupted in the gym as the attention averted from Rachel and the band, to the fight in the back.

"GET OFF ME!" Rick hollered, landing a punch in Sam's stomach.

It was enough to keep Sam's now bloodied knuckles at bay as he rolled onto his side, but his adrenaline allowed him to recover quickly and he dove back onto Rick, wrestling with the other senior. He'd thrown a few more punches and kneed Rick in the groin, but Rick lucked with another jab that was sure to give Sam another black eye.

"HEY! KNOCK IT OFF!" Coach Bieste roared while rapidly approaching. It wasn't her who had first intervened in the fight however.

Sam thrashed as he felt himself being pulled off of Rick. The burly arms of Shane Tinsley held him back from Rick.

"You think that's funny, don't you!" snarled Sam—his eyes burning holes into Rick's bloodied face. "THE HELL DID SHE EVER DO TO YOU! I _KNOW_ IT WAS YOU!" he yelled, drawing a greater audience towards them.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Evans!" growled Coach Bieste as she hastily drew Rick to his feet and detained him from the blond.

"This asshole's the one that threw shit on my girlfriend!" Sam shouted back.

Rick blurted out defensively, "Yeah well Tinsley said we wouldn't get caught!"

The tense showdown fell silent for several beats. Even the music onstage fell to silence again. Almost immediately, Sam felt Shane's hold on him slacken. The blond swimmer jerked away to get a good look at Shane's face. "So you're behind this?"

Realization started to sink into Sam's mind; the puzzle was all coming together. Of course it made more sense that Shane was the mastermind—Sam could hardly credit Rick for thinking this entire thing up, even if the mention of Shane's involvement _did _temporarily blind sight him.

"I—…" Shane started but never finished. He closed his mouth and lowered his head shamefully.

Sam was white hot with anger. Not only was Shane of all people the one who had pulled him off Rick—and act Sam almost _would have_ thanked him for one day—but he was now being kept from giving the football player his share of the beating—though Shane would probably flatten him in a second.

"Cool it, Evans!" snapped Coach Roz, who had joined Bieste in apprehending the brawling boys. She stepped in between Sam and Shane while drawing herself up tall, "Shane Tinsley, you and Sam Evans come to Principal Figgins' office_ right_ _now_."

"You too, Nelson," barked Bieste as she shoved the red-head by the scruff of his jacket.

All three boys were being escorted out of the gym by the two female coaches, but Sam's fury subsided just enough or him to make a quiet but tense plea to his swim coach. "Can I please go check on my girlfriend?"

"Sorry Evans," and she sounded like she meant it," but scrapping with that hockey boy got you in trouble too."

Sam ground his teeth with each reluctant step towards the principal's office. Still incensed with everything that had happened, he mentally repeated to himself his hopes that Kurt kept good on his word to get Mercedes home. Whatever consequences his actions afforded him would be worth it if Mercedes could be spared from anymore horrors that night.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please leave reviews! There will only be a few more chapters added to this before I wrap it up &amp; turn my attention back to Flash Forward and other fics that are in the works.<strong>_


	8. Chapter 8

Shane was ordered to sit down in one of Figgins' office chairs next to Sam. He could feel the rage breathing from every orifice of Sam's body. Coach Roz brought Rick a towel to hold to his nose while Bieste stood dutifully near the door with her arms crossed.

Did Shane feel terrible about what happened to Mercedes? Absolutely. Was he angry? Yes. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but there was a good chance he would have joined in the pounding of Rick's face, had he not seen Bieste coming towards them first.

This wasn't what he wanted. Once upon a time, he thought making Mercedes feel as foolish as she made him feel would bring him satisfaction. But now he found himself staring at the ceiling, saying a silent prayer that his ex was okay. He'd heard about the slushie-ing that went wrong a few months back with one of the other glee club kids. _Why didn't he just tell Mercedes about the prank as soon as she got to the school that night? Why did it seem like a good idea to use slushies? And why in the hell did Rick add dog food?_ These were questions he could only ask himself in the safety of his own mind, because Coach Roz and Bieste were looming directly behind, and Principal Figgins had just strode into the room.

"Boys," the Principal started, drawing their attention with sharp authority. "In all my years as principal at McKinley, never have I seen such poor showing at a school dance!"

Sam scoffed, "What about last year when you announced Kurt for prom queen?"

"Mr. Hummel's incident is a very close second, Mr. Evans. But fighting and throwing slushies at prom—"

"It wasn't just a slushie," corrected Sam through gritted teeth.

"How do you know this, Mr. Evans?"

"Because I saw Mercedes after she ran out of the gym!" It was obvious he was struggling to keep his voice under control. "Why do you think I came back and rearranged Rick's face?"

Principal Figgins' brows rose as he looked from the blond to the red head. Rick was standing with his head—most of which was concealed by the towel—tilted skyward. Coach Roz rolled her eyes and told him he was supposed to keep his head down.

Coach Bieste muttered, "You seem to have a knack for getting caught up in fights, Evans."

Shane glanced sideways at Sam, who had his lips pursed in a tight line. He saw shift his fierce gaze to a spot on the floor, and when Principal Figgins reverted his attention back to Sam, Shane sighed. Immediately, Sam shot his glare at him. From there, the blond swimmer gave a clipped explanation of what he'd been told, what he had seen, and what he heard for himself.

Shane felt his face grow hot. While he didn't have a direct hand in defiling and humiliating Mercedes, Rick had already called him out in having some involvement. And as Sam wasted no time reiterating Rick's confession, Shane wondered if clarifying would help or hinder him in the long run. He opted on keeping his mouth shut, unless directly spoken to.

Coach Bieste and Coach Roz confirmed Sam's retelling of Rick's confession; the moment of truth came. Principal Figgins finally looked at Shane—his brows set deep in confusion. "Mr. Tinsley, is it true? Were you involved in this…prom prank?"

Shane grimaced and sighed again. There was no point in lying—Rick was a rat and after how utter wrong things had gone, the truth was his best option. "Yes, sir. What Sam said about everything that happened…it's all true."

The principal's brows shot up, "What exactly did you do?"

"I…I was the one that came up with the idea. Only, I said I wanted her embarrassed. I didn't say to put the dog food in the slushie."

"Oh how noble of you," Sam muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"That's enough, Mr. Evans," snapped Figgins. He then looked back to Shane, "Why would you ensue such a terrible thing, Mr. Tinsley?"

Shane's full lips parted and then shut. He shook his head while his deep voice admitted, "It was stupid. I know that. And I tried to stop it before it happened, but…obviously I didn't try hard enough." His last few words were directed to Rick. If Sam ever acknowledged him before graduation, he'd have to compliment him on his ability to throw a right hook.

Figgins sat back in his chair with a pensive gaze. After a few seconds of internal deliberation, he leaned forward, pulling layered slips of paper and a pen from his desk. As he spoke again, his hand began scribbling furiously across one page. 'I'm sorry to do this, but Mr. Tinsley you're suspended from school for three days. In your absence, you're senior privileges will be debated amongst the staff and when you return to school, I will tell you whether or not you will keep them or have them revoked."

"Does that mean he might not walk with us?" Rick stupidly asked.

"Yes, and Mr. Nelson that isn't up for debate for you. In addition to your revoked senior privileges, you are suspended for one week, pending a potential expulsion."

"WHAT?" shrieked the hockey captain. Shane looked back at his former friend and twisted his face in discomfort at what he saw.

Sam had inarguably done a number on Rick's face. One of Rick's eyes was already starting to swell shut; he sported a busted lip, a cheek as red as his hair, and a crooked nose that seemed to faucet a never-ending fountain of blood.

Principal Figgin's voice rose, "Mr. Nelson I take school pranks very seriously! Why, just this year we had another student nearly lose his sight from a tampered slushie! The bullying at this school has to stop and you have been behind several incidents this year! You are suspended next week while I consider your expulsion."

"That's such crap!" protested Rick while jabbing an accusatory finger at Sam, "What about him? Do you see what he did to me?"

"Do not tell me how to do my job, Mr. Nelson!" Figgins nearly demanded the silence that proceeded, before he spoke again. After setting aside the two slips of paper, Shane only assumed were suspension forms, he and the principal looked at Sam. "Mr. Evans you will serve one session of Saturday school next weekend with the new Spanish teacher, Mr. Martinez."

Shane chanced another glance at the blond to gauge his reaction to his punishment. Sam hadn't budged; his knuckles were still tightly gripping the arm rest as if he were trying to resist the jolts of an electric chair.

"None of you are allowed to return to the prom," finished Figgins.

"Or what's left of it," Bieste interjected, nodding pointedly to the clock on the wall. 9:52, it read.

The principal sighed, "You still aren't allowed to return." After asking Bieste to walk them out, he stood from his desk to file the suspension slips and then headed back to the gym with Coach Roz.

Shane was the most reluctant to leave of the three teens. He wanted to explain himself better than he had. But it was too late. Everything was too late—too late to have warned Mercedes, and too late to have apologized to her. Too late to have tried and form somewhat amicable terms with Sam. Too late to enjoy his last prom. Too late to finish school with a clean record. Too late to not wonder how his recent suspension would affect his Ohio State scholarship.

Once Coach Bieste had taken the three seniors outside, Rick tried to make an argument for his transportation. After telling that his date was his ride, an apathetic Bieste told him to wait there until she came out. Grumbling, Rick plopped down on the curb and busied himself with complaints of pain.

Shane, who had driven himself and his date, was still gentlemanly enough not abandon Layla. He didn't know Sam's story but it didn't look like he was going anywhere. He was standing as far awa from Rick and himself, and even with the distance It was clear that he was seething. With a few minutes left to kill, Shane used them to internally debate talking to the blond swimmer. Something told him that there was no point—that he should just try to find a way to talk to Mercedes directly. Sam was likely to see her before he would however. He was, after all, suspended now. And she wasn't going to answer his calls; she would take one look at the ID and ignore him, as she should, once Sam told her his involvement with the prank.

Moments later, a few people emerged fom the school's main entrance. Their faces were caught between uncertainty and amusement from the prom's events. Not long after, he saw Sam turn around. A few people Shane hardly recognized came over to talk to Sam, but their close-knit bodies dispersed seconds later. The last of the people to come to Sam—people Shane actually recognized—were Finn Hudson and Quinn Fabray. Shane and Quinn had English together.

He watched as the pair neared Sam, and although there was distance between himself and the trio, he did pick up on their conversation. Sam was filling them in on his conversation with Principal Figgins.

"Dude I'm sorry. That sucks," murmured Finn.

Quinn then told Sam, "If it makes you feel any better, Kurt and Blaine got Mercedes home."

Shane pursed his lips; he glanced back towards the gym and saw Layla walking towards him. He turned his attention back to Sam, Quinn and Finn and dare to approach; if he was going to have a message relayed to Mercedes, it was now or never.

"'ey, Sam…" Three pairs of unwelcoming eyes turned to him but Shane held his ground. Unfortunately for him, he didn't beyond saying, "Could you tell Mercedes—"

Sam almost instantly looked ready to pounce again as he snapped, "I'm not telling her anything for you!" He shook his head, narrowing his eyes, "For you to do what you did…and here I thought you were actually decent. You're an ass!"

"Yeah? Look who's talking," Shane retorted, irritated by the accusation.

Sam advanced him and for the first time, Shane felt smaller than the blond. Their faces were inches from each other and Sam's gaze was as dark and fatal as his tone, "I didn't go out of my way to embarrass her when she rejected me so don't you dare compare what I did to what you did." Finn came up from behind Sam and clapped a hand over his chest to tow him back. Before Sam accepted the help of avoiding another brawl, he growled, "You stay away from her!"

Finn urged Sam away with a little more persistence, and eventually they had left with Quinn wheeling herself in front of them. Shane stood watching—his slight irritation subsiding. One way or another, he was going to apologize to Mercedes.


	9. Chapter 9

Mercedes had never been more grateful that her mom went to bed early. Kurt and Blaine offered to wait for her downstairs while she cleaned up, but all she wanted was to be alone so she sent them away. Once she got upstairs to her bathroom she rid herself of her sticky, defiled dress and her annoying strappy shoes and took the longest shower of her life. Kurt and Tina had removed most of the dog food and ice chunks from her hair, but as she stood under the shower head with her eyes lowered, she could see the repulsive red and brown syrups wash off her body and swirl down the drain. The horrendous moment replayed in her head numerous times until she broke down and cried a second time.

She didn't leave the bathroom until she had her sobs under control but by then, the frequent running of the water roused her mother from bed and her knocking persistently on the bathroom door. Reluctantly, Mercedes opened the door, letting her mother take in her bland expression and her swollen, reddened eyes.

"Mercedes…what's wrong, baby?" her mother asked—concern oozing from her voice in an instant.

Still not having found her voice, Mercedes shook and lowered her head and began to cry once more. She reached for her mom and her mother obliged, hugging her daughter fiercely. She tried again to find out what had happened but Mercedes gave her no answer. Over the girls' shoulder she saw the purple gown—once a lustrous dress, now lying in a stained heap. "What in the world—" Ms. Jones started, but in her wordlessness, she put enough pieces together and held Mercedes even tighter.

The Jones matriarch walked her daughter to her bedroom. She knew that Mercedes was not going to talk about the specifics with her tonight. So as Mercedes started to calm down from her cries, Ms. Jones cleared her bed of her purse, and tucked her into bed. She kissed Mercedes' forehead, gently urging her to get some rest, and then left the room to go back to bed.

It seemed like Mercedes had cried herself into numbness. She didn't have any more tears to shed and focusing on any one emotion for too long—anger, confusion, sadness, disappointment—it was bound to just exhaust her further. For a moment her mind returned to a question that popped into her mind while she was in the shower: where had Sam gone?

Mercedes sat up, groping her comforter for her purse; for a brief moment she panicked, doubting whether or not she'd brought it with her from the back of Blaine's car, but she soon spotted it on the side table by her bed. She swiped it off of the top and into her lap, unsnapping the top so she could take out her Droid. When the screen lit up, she saw that she had five missed calls, three voice mail messages and several neglected text messages. Three of the calls were from Sam, as well as two of the voice mail messages; one missed call was from Tina and the last was from Shane. Tina was among the numerous text messages sent to her phone—along with Quinn, Joe, Sugar, Rachel and Santana. She hadn't actually read all of the texts, mostly because they were all variations of the same message, but she did listen to the voicemail messages.

The first one from Sam said, "_Hi, listen…I just wanted to say I'm sorry for not coming back. Don't freak out but I got Saturday school. It's a long story but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. Call me later and I'll come by if you want. I love you. Bye_."

The second message went: "_Call me back, okay? I just want to know that you're okay_." She heard him sigh into the microphone, "_I know that this prom sucked but…I'll find a way to make it up you. Promise. I love you Mercedes_."

The final voice message, to her surprise, was from Shane: "_I'm probably the last person you wanna talk to after tonight but…I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I hope you'll forgive me someday Mercedes. Call me back. Bye_."

Parallel tracks formed on the bridge of Mercedes' nose. "Why would he—…" she started to wonder aloud. Without thinking on it further, she called him. The phone rang twice before she got an answer.

"Mercedes?" spoke Shane's deep voice.

She skipped right past any greetings and went right to the point, "Why are you sorry, Shane?"

There was a pause. "Because of the prank. It was stupid and I shouldn't have let Rick—"

"Let Rick, what?" she interrupted sharply. "He and his idiot friends are the ones who did it."

Shane sighed audibly into the phone. She waited only a few seconds before checking to see if he was still there.

"I'm still here," he muttered, "And…it was my fault. I'm the one that set up the prank, but I tried to stop it…"

She heard the falter in his voice after the "but", which struck her painfully. She whispered into the microphone end of her cell, "Why would you do that?"

"I was mad at the time that we set it up. I wanted to get you back for cheatin' on me. But like I said, I tried to stop it."

"Yeah I heard that part," she snapped lowly.

Shane apologized again, "I'm sorry Ba-Mercedes."

Mercedes sucked in a loud breath. She rolled her eyes shut and let herself be the one to go silent this time. As she sighed it out, Shane spoke again.

"Can you forgive me?"

"Okay first of all, do you have any idea how…._embarrassed_ I am? You had me humiliated in front of everyone and you destroyed my dress with all that crap!" Of course, when she thought she had no more tears left, more managed to pool in her eyes. "And second, I apologized to you Shane—more than once for cheating on you. And I've never been proud of what I did to you but I'm not gonna wallow in what I did either. I thought you'd forgiven me but obviously I was wrong. But you got a lot of nerve asking me to forgive you tonight." Her voice betrayed her steeled anger but she swallowed back oncoming sobs and went on to demand of him, "_Don't_ call me anymore Shane Tinsley, and don't text me. In fact, lose my number. And when I go back to school, don't talk to me. Don't come near me."

Unable to hold back her angry tears any further, she hung up and threw her Droid across the room. To her fortune, it landed in her clothes hamper but she hardly cared as she turned her head into her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>Monday afternoon in Glee club held a somber tension. By now, every one of the New Directions knew what had happened to Mercedes—everyone except Mr. Schuester, who waltzed into class with his typical bout of optimism. "Okay guys, I'm sure prom was a lot of fun but it's time to get our heads back in the mindset of Nationals!" He quickly took in the grimaces worn by his students and felt his own smile fade away. "What's…wrong guys? And where's Mercedes?"<p>

All eyes made not so subtle travels in Sam's direction. He however, was sitting at floor level between Quinn and Kurt, visibly upset with his arms folded. He felt the gazes on him but deliberately avoided every last gaze. It felt like the week of rumors junior year, all over again though this time he knew no one blamed him for what happened.

Still waiting for an answer Mr. Schue raised his brows impatiently, "Anyone?"

With a loud sigh, Quinn spoke up, "Some guys pulled a prank on Mercedes at the prom."

Mr. Schue's confusion deepened, "A prank?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Yes, a bunch of block heads on the hockey team…threw tainted slushies at her."

"Oh no—it wasn't another rock salt slushie was it? Is she okay?" unable to help himself, Mr. Schue looked to Blaine, who was staring attentively at his boyfriend.

"No, it wasn't like that. And physically, she's okay."

"Oh…well, that's good to know. And Sam, Kurt if you see her soon, would you let her know we're all thinking of her?"

Kurt nodded but Sam finally spoke up.

"She's not seeing anyone."

"Wait…you haven't seen her since the prom?" asked Tina who was seated above the blond.

Sam clenched his jaw—to his personal gratitude, Kurt answered.

"Sam and I went by her house yesterday and her dad answered the door. He told us Mercedes wasn't up for company."

"I tried to call her yesterday," announced Rachel. "She didn't answer."

"She's only been answering texts," Sam informed them. "So if you want to talk to her, that's your best bet.

A moment of silence filled the room until Mr. Schuester broke it, ineffectively transitioning into rehearsing for Nationals. Sam certainly didn't feel like singing when his mind was on Mercedes. He just wanted to hear her voice or see her face, yet the last live image he had of her was of her sobbing while beef chunks and syrup dripped down her head.

His heart wasn't in the song they were rehearsing. And when the bell finally rang, he wandered down the hallway towards his locker. Joe caught up to him, "Hey Sam!"

The blond pulled his locker open while glancing up the hall at the dread-locked teen. Joe padded over to him—the sound making Sam glance down at the tile floor. He glanced skyward and then back to eye level. "Dude, you really need to put some shoes on. This isn't your house."

"I know but…It's just more comfortable. I mean we didn't always wear shoes, y'know."

"Yeah but I'm sure there's a law or something. Anyway, what did you want?"

Joe nervously clutched his messenger bag strap, "Well…I know you were upset about what happened with Mercedes. And I don't blame you dude—it wasn't cool at all."

Sam had to work hard to remain patient with Joe, opting to say nothing back as he exchanged his books.

"But I had an idea for you and Mercedes, when she comes back."

Closing his locker, Sam looked fully at the younger male with peaking curiosity.

Joe jerked his head to the right, "Come with me to the quad and I'll explain."


	10. Chapter 10

Shane returned to school on Thursday, as per his suspension. He spent the previous days dwelling on Mercedes' last words to him. At times, he'd grow upset as he repeated her demands on his mind. On other occasions, he felt the guilt smack him over and over again from what he'd done to provoke her into…well, pretty much hating him now. Through the ups and downs of emotions, he still felt sure that he was over her; besides, if he _had_ any desire to rekindle his relationship with Mercedes, it was now and forever snuffed.

As he walked down the hallways of McKinley, he felt the judgmental eyes of his peers on him, making him feel smaller than he ever thought they could. He was never one to make waves, but it was obvious that word of his involvement in the prank had spread like wildfire. Some people stared at him as though they were trying to picture him stirring the dog food into the slushie cup—they'd even cowered towards their lockers as he passed. Most people pokerfaced whatever the feelings were that were actually running through their minds; a handful of others shook their heads at him, holding no shame in expressing their disappointment in the jock.

Shane did his best to ignore all of them but he knew he didn't need the reminders of what he'd done. After tending to his business at his locker, he slammed the door and strode off to his first class. Unfortunately for him, that class was Government—the one and only class he shared with Mercedes. He'd heard from some friends that she hadn't come to school on Monday or Tuesday; he didn't know about Wednesday, but she was back now. As he sidled past a column of desks to his seat in the back, he couldn't help stealing a glance at her.

Mercedes however, had been—deliberately or coincidentally—engrossed in a conversation with her blonde bestie, Quinn Fabray. When their teacher called the class's attention to the front, all conversation died down and the lesson began. Shane felt like he'd missed a month's worth of material, rather than three days, and it didn't help that his eyes kept wandering back to Mercedes. He wanted to apologize to her again and make sure she was alright but it was all really just an excuse to test out whether or not she really wasn't going to talk to him again. He knew better than to follow through with that desire though—he'd dated her long enough to know when she was dead serious and when she could be persuaded otherwise.

When the bell rang, Shane shoved his notebook into his backpack and got up to leave quickly when he noticed how gradual Mercedes was packing up. He wasn't going to be able to avoid her for the rest of the school year, but during Government that day, he chewed on the thought of how well he knew Mercedes and decided it was best to respect her wishes as best as he could and just leave her be. If this prank taught him anything, it was that he_ needed _to do that.

Mercedes headed out of the classroom beside her wheelchair-bound friend, who had been filling her in on what she'd missed in Government, as well as Glee club and the God Squad.

"Sam and Joe let me step up as a pseudo vice-president while you were gone. We prayed a lot for you, and Joe wanted to make a card to have the whole Glee club sign for you."

The dark diva smiled, "Aw. That was really thoughtful of him."

Quinn smirked a little, "Yeah—that's Joe for you."

"Thanks for stepping up with the God Squad meetings," Mercedes added as they rounded the corridor to their lockers.

"Think nothing of it," the blonde replied. "As for Glee club, you haven't missed a whole lot there. Occasional bickering—mostly from Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester over one of the songs for Nationals. But a lot of people have missed you. Especially Sam, Kurt, Tina and myself."

At the mention of Sam's name Mercedes frowned a bit. But she addressed each of them in her response, "I called Sam last night. I need to talk to him in person—I know that, but I did feel really bad for just cutting him off ever since Saturday."

"He's been pretty convinced that you were mad at him for leaving you with us after everything at prom."

"I know…I'm not mad at him, and I told him that a lot…but a text or a call's not the same as being told in person. I've missed you, Kurt and Tina a lot too though."

Reaching Quinn's locker, the two smiled softly at each other, "Well, like I told you in Government, it's good to have you back Mercedes."

"Thanks Quinn." They hugged and then performed their exploding fist bump, giggled softly and then parted ways for their next class.

As for speaking with Sam, she didn't see him until lunchtime. He had just entered the cafeteria when Mercedes spotted him from her table, consisting of herself, Kurt, Blaine, Quinn and Joe. "I'll be back," She told her group of friends as she rose up and sped-walked across the room. She tapped him on the shoulder just as he reached the front of the lunch line and when he turned around, he hardly looked thrilled to see her.

Mercedes took this into consideration as she said, "I'm really sorry I hardly talked to you these past few days. Can we talk now?"

Sam pursed his lips and swallowed. "Sure." He set his tray down and left the line to follow her out of the cafeteria and towards the quad.

"I know I told all of this to you on the phone already, but…I was just so humiliated. I didn't want to see anyone since it had happened."

Sam opened his mouth to say something but Mercedes held her hand up, "Hold on."

She took a deep breath for her own sake—confrontations with Sam usually made her a little anxious, no matter what they were discussing. "I know with what I just said…that it doesn't make things any better but what I'm trying to say is…while I gave you the same treatment as everyone else, I shouldn't have. You're my man. And I didn't treat you like you were by shutting you out."

"I get why you did it," Sam replied.

Mercedes' brows rose while her lips fell in a slight but visible frown. "You do?"

"Yeah. I still can't believe what had happened to you but I can't imagine how you feel."

"I'm okay now."

Sam reached out to cup her cheek, "And I'm glad you are. But Mercedes…if space is something you need when you're upset or hurt, just…tell me that a little more clearly next time okay? I don't want you to shut me out again, but if it's what you need, just tell me that okay?"

Mercedes placed her hand over his as she nodded. It wasn't her finest moment—ignoring his calls and some of his texts, and avoiding seeing him, or anyone for that matter. It almost made her feel a little more guilty that Sam was taking this so well. "I'm really sorry, Sam."

"I forgive you, baby." He pecked her lips and she returned the peck.

"A few of us have a table near the middle of the cafeteria. Wanna join us?"

Her eyes were hopeful that he didn't already have other plans during lunch today but she patiently watched while his lips curled into a crooked smile.

"Yeah after I get my food. But hey, what are you doing Saturday night?"

Her brows came together, "Saturday? Um…other than homework, nothing. My parents are going to Chicago for the weekend to visit my brother, so I was just gonna chill at home. Why?"

She saw Sam's smile few—a look of contemplation flashing across his face that she only barely caught.

"Don't make any plans Saturday night. I wanna take you somewhere."

Mercedes face quickly formed to intrigue and confusion, "Somewhere?"

"Yes. And that's all I'm saying, so don't bother fishing for details."

Her face scrunched but a definite smile was present; he knew her too well sometimes. "Fiiiiine. I won't fish. But make no mistake, Evans—I'll be wondering what the hell you've got up your sleeve."

Being his witty self, Sam grinned at her, "Nothing but muscle, baby."

Shaking her head, but grinning as well, she swatted one of those muscular arms and headed back to the table with her friends.


	11. Chapter 11

**The final chapter to "Venus and Mars"**

* * *

><p>"Kurt will you just tell me what's going on already?" an irritated Mercedes asked.<p>

Her best friend stood on the other side of the partially ajar bathroom door, leaning against the door frame. He had one arm folded across his chest while his other hand was busy texting. "Nope. Sorry Mercedes but you're just gonna have to play along."

"I don't want to get dressed up. I thought Sam was just gonna take me to the movies or something."

Kurt dropped his hand after sending a text. He glanced into the bathroom, though Mercedes was out of sight, and said, "Mercedes please. You know Sam—if it involves you, it's probably not going to be small and simple."

"I know, I know," she grumbled. "But I hate surprises."

"You're lying. You love them and you know it. You just don't like not being in the know."

"True," she admitted before sighing and opening the bathroom door all the way.

"Ooo la-la, Ms. Jones!" Kurt exclaimed. He stood up straight appraising Mercedes' outfit; a purple floral fly away halter top with white leggings. Since Kurt was in on whatever Sam had planned, she let him help pick out her outfit for the date. She completed the look with a pair of open-toed wedges that donned a small purple bow above the toes.

Mercedes propped her hands on her hips, smiling at Kurt's flattery. "I just need to grab my accessories and then I'll be ready to go."

"Great—that'll be perfect timing," Kurt said while glancing at his phone to send another text.

"Who are you—you're texting Sam, aren't you?"

With a shrug and a sly smirk, Kurt replied, "Maaaaybe."

She rolled her eyes smiling, "Real slick, Kurt." She passed him by and wandered into her bedroom for earrings and bangles but as she slipped her golden, spiraling earrings in, her phone buzzed on her bed, stealing her attention. She picked it up and saw Shane's name flashing across the screen.

For a moment, she debated ignoring it but simply seeing his name already brought a dark cloud over her excited mood. With a sigh, she answered, "I thought I told you not to call me, Shane."

Almost immediately, she saw Kurt pop his head into the room—eyes wide. Mercedes cut her hand across her neck, mouthing "DON'T!" to him.

"I know, Mercedes," Shane replied. "I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I'd hope you weren't still mad at me."

"Well I am. You really don't get it, do you? You humiliated me in front of our whole class. You let Rick throw dog food at me. You know what—I don't even want to re-hash this right now. I have plans and they don't include me going off on you, _again_."

"You're not even gonna listen to me?"

"Hell no!" she replied—her voice rising up. "And don't act like you have a right to be heard out. I already told you that when I'm ready to talk to you, I will." Without another word, Mercedes lowered her Droid from her ear and hung up.

Kurt stood at the door, scowling with concern. "Are you okay?"

After a deep breath, she nodded, "Yeah. Just…don't go telling Sam about this. Whatever he's got planned for us tonight, I'm sure he's working hard on. I don't need him all fired up too."

"I won't," Kurt replied, holding up his pinky.

His offer made Mercedes smile returned. She swiped her bangles and her purse off of her dresser and neared Kurt to hook pinkies. Immediately after, they wiggled their fingertips and headed off for the night.

* * *

><p>"Dude, are you sure there aren't too many?" asked Finn. He crouched down with a lighter, holding its flame to a candle wick. Once it caught, he set it down near the lake's edge and picked up another one to light.<p>

Sam was a short distance away from him, doing the same thing. "No, just keep lighting them dude. I want this to be just right."

He had also enlisted in Artie, Brittany and Santana's help. Artie was messing with an iPod and stereo while Brittany and Santana were hanging a small banner that read, "Prom 2.0".

As Sam finally got to the last of the candles and added it to the large, triple-wide circle they created near the lake, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to read a text from Kurt's phone that read, "This is Mercedes. Kurt's driving. He says we're not far."

The blond's lips tugged up in a crooked smile as he texted back a quick, "Ok" before putting his phone away. As he rose to his full height again, surveying the intimate surrounding, he glanced down at himself. His wardrobe was also dressed down from prom; a plum dress shirt with a white vest and jet black jeans. He topped it off with a black fedora, insisted on by Kurt, and hoped Kurt guided Mercedes in something of a similar casual level.

Before he had a chance to think much on this however, the headlights of Kurt's car came into view. Finn hustled himself out of the candle circle to join Artie, Brittany and Santana while Sam stood and waited. He heard one car door shut, and then another and then watched Kurt lead Mercedes by the hand. He squinted and noticed he'd made her shut her eyes; soon he heard her muttering threats to him if he made her trip and fall.

Sam's lips formed a closed-mouth smile that quickly spread into a toothy grin. He slipped his hands into his rear denim pockets while Kurt stopped her just short of the candles.

"Now I'm gonna let go of your hand. Don't open your eyes until you're told, okay?"

With an impatient but eager huff, Mercedes agreed and Kurt stepped quickly away from her.

"Okay," Sam spoke up, "Don't open your eyes just yet. Almost."

Mercedes' lips rose at the sound of Sam's voice but she complied with his command as the blond nodded to Artie, who started the music. The bespectacled brunette pressed play on the iPod and the stereo began playing a twinkling piano melody. Shortly after, he began to sing the lyrics to "Endless Love," with Santana joining in on the number.

Sam gauged Mercedes reaction; her tame smile was set free and if he had to guess, she was probably blushing. He took a few steps away from the center of the circle, towards her and murmured, "Open your eyes."

He saw her dark lids lift and almost vanish completely when she gasped. "Sam Evans…" was all that left her mouth. He maintained his smile while extending a hand out to her. When she took it, he curled his fingers around and saw her over the candles and into the circle for a dance. His free hand occupied itself with her waist as they began to slowly sway in synch.

"You set all this up for me?" she quietly asked as Brittany and Santana sang on.

Sam lowered his gaze to her, "I wanted our prom to end right. And I wanted you to know how sorry am I wasn't there with you the whole time."

"It wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't make me feel much better for being so far from you when it happened…and then leaving you hall while I went to fight Rick…" he shook his head. "I won't ever apologize for defending your honor, but I am sorry it came at the expense of me leaving you."

"I know you are. And I wouldn't want you to be sorry for defending my honor. I'm really touched you went through all of this though…"

Sam kissed her forehead, "Mercedes, you're a beautiful person on the inside and the out. I feel sorry for anyone who can't see that, but I won't have them disrespecting you when you deserve all the R-E-S-P-E-C-T there is."

Mercedes giggled softly when he spelled it out, and soon turned her gentle laughs into a faint smile while they danced inside the circle. At one point, after the song changed, Mercedes and Sam caught a glimpse of Brittany and Santana dancing as Kurt sang "It Will Rain" again—as a solo this time. His singing of the song, while endearing, only brought up memories of the previous week for Mercedes. At that time, she didn't remember what songs were being sung or what the people around her looked like—besides Shane and Rick. But having had time to think things through, she mind had pieced together things it didn't want to focus on then.

Sam caught her expression changing and misunderstood as he gingerly told her, "We don't have to stay out here long if you don't want. Santana already told me she and Brittany had other plans later tonight, so—"

"Shane called me tonight. Earlier, before Kurt and I left."

Sam stopped swaying as she blurted out the words; his lack of movement forced her to stop dancing as well. His generally calmed gaze began hardening. "What did he want?"

Mercedes sighed, "To try and apologize. But I told him I wasn't ready for that and he needed to leave me alone."

"I'll say," muttered Sam. But immediately after, he lost Mercedes' grasp and soon felt both of her soft hands hold either side of his face.

"Sam, listen. I told you this because I love you and I want to be in an honest relationship with you. I don't want you getting all fired up over a two-minute phone call that I took care of."

"He upset you," he pointed out.

"Yeah, at the time I was pretty mad. But I told you—I handled it, and now I'm here with you having the best Prom 2.0 in the world."

That was enough to bring his smile back. She held his gaze and seemed to be waiting for the rest of his features to soften before lowering her hands from his face. He had long ago figured out that she had this hold on him. She could bring a smile to his face for many reasons; she appreciated his silliness and humor, and when he got upset about something, she knew how to calm him down or set him straight. Somehow she always knew what he needed and the fact that he would never be able to fully explain all of this just convinced him further that she was the one. She was the only one he was meant to be with.

Sam reached up to curl his fingers around her hands and pull them gently away. He re-claimed his hold on one while his other hand freed one of hers; his hand came back to her beautifully-curved waist. After gazing in her eyes for a little longer, he lowered his head to nuzzle his nose against the groove of her neck.

"I love you, Mercedes."

He felt a rise in her cheeks against the side of his face as she murmured back, "And I will always love you, Sam Evans."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please leave reviews! Did you like the way it ended? Were there any questions you felt were left unanswered? Let me know!<strong>_


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